


Happy New Year

by polikszena



Category: Downton Abbey, Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (2020), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polikszena/pseuds/polikszena
Summary: One night, three fandoms, a hundred years. A glimpse of New Year's Eve in Downon Abbey in 1920 and in Edinburgh a hundred years later. A spontaneous set of ficlets written on 31 December 2020.
Relationships: Alexander Lemtov & Roxy Morton | Lancelot, Mary Crawley/Matthew Crawley, Mita Xenakis & Alexander Lemtov, Sigrit Ericksdóttir/Lars Erickssong
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the lockdown, I was stuck at home on New Year's Eve, so I wrote something to celebrate the end of this challenging year. Happy New Year to you all!

_Húsavik, 2020_

Lars Erickssong looked quite puzzled when he saw Alexander Lemtov’s name on his phone’s screen. _How the hell does he know my number?_ – he wondered. He picked it up anyway and faced a slightly surprised Lemtov and Mita Xenakis on the screen.

“Lars? I thought I called Sigrit,” the Russian said.

The Icelander threw a glance on the phone and realised that it wasn’t his. He was so excited that he accidentally took Sigrit’s.

“You did,” he said with a nod. “It’s her phone. Hi Mita!”

“Hello Lars!” The Greek woman smiled at him. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks. And you?”

“Fine, thank you,” she replied.

“Sorry, I can’t talk for long, because I have to find kids’ champagne for Sigrit before the shop closes,” he told them.

“Kids’ champagne?” Lemtov raised a brow.

“Non-alcoholic champagne,” Mita explained, then she turned back to Lars. “Why? She drinks, doesn’t she?”

“Not anymore,” the Icelander beamed into the camera. “She’s pregnant! I’m going to be a father!” he was shouting the last words with an ear-to-ear grin. “I’m going to be a father!” he repeated and from the movements of the camera, the contestants could guess that he was dancing on Húsavik’s main street. Then they heard someone blowing a paper horn at him.

“Wow, congratulations!” Mita said with a wide grin.

“A baby… that’s great!” Lemtov said, although he was rather shocked by the news. He had no problem imagining Sigrit as a mother, but Lars as a father… it seemed riskier than hiring Vladimir to design an actual building. He still had no idea how his background dancer could get his degree in architecture when he set the model of his final project on fire during the presentation. On purpose.

“Actually, we were calling you to wish you a happy new year,” Lemtov said. “Before we get so drunk that we can’t remember our names.”

“Happy New Year, then!” Lars grinned at them.

“To you, too! And give our best wishes to Sigrit, too.”

“Sure,” he said then he hung up.

“A baby…” Mita mumbled, surprised and excited at the same time.

“Lars as a father,” Lemtov said with a chuckle. “Poor kid. At least he or she will be half-Sigrit.”

“I think they’ll love the shit out of that kid,” the Greek woman said.

“Yeah, me too,” the Russian agreed with a small smile, although he felt his heart sinking a little. Hearing the pure joy in Lars’ voice made him realise that he probably would never be a father. Which was an odd feeling, because he didn’t even want kids. Still, whenever someone close to him got pregnant, this thought hit him.

“Hey, are you OK?” Mita asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yes,” the Russian replied. “Although there’s something that bothers me.”

“What is it?”

“Non-alcoholic champagne. Is that really a thing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm not a very big Sigrit/Lars shipper, but then I had this idea of Lars wanting to get alcohol-free champagne for Sigrit and that was what set off this whole fic.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donwton, 1920. Mr Carson is handing out the wine at the servants' hall before midnight.

_Downton, 1920_

As it was almost midnight, the servants’ hall was buzzing like a beehive as all the staff gathered there, their chitchat filled the room. Even though it was something they did every year: having a glass of wine at midnight, the approaching new year made them excited for what was yet to come. They didn’t know. No-one knew. A year before they had no idea about Mr Bates’ fate – and now he was there, handing out the glasses to the others. Or Lady Sybil’s – no-one had thought that she would be dead by the end of the year.

Mr Carson looked around to check if everyone had their glasses, as there was still one left on the tray. It took him a short while to realise it was his. He let out a small sigh and picked it up, with his gaze shifting between the clock and the staff. The hall boys were counting down the seconds, Mrs Patmore shoot a smile at Daisy, Anna put her hand on Bates’, and they shared a quick glance. O’Brien stood with Alfred and Thomas next to Jimmy. Then his eyes met with Mrs Hughes’, and a smile touched the housekeeper’s lips. Carson smiled back and nodded his head.

The clock began to chime.

He raised his glass and so did the rest of the staff.

It was time.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edinburgh, 2020. Alexander Lemtov and his company are waiting for midnight on the balcony of his mansion to watch the fireworks together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is related to my Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga/Kingsman crossover, The Bodyguard.

_Edinburgh, 2020_

“Aren’t we too early?” Nikolay asked, adjusting his scarf. “There’s nothing yet!”

“We still have one minute!” Kevin Swain announced, sliding his phone back into his pocket, then he zipped up his coat as it was quite cold outside.

“It’s very cold,” Nikolay continued, standing closer to his wife.

“And you’re Russian!” Mita chuckled, as she felt like freezing, even though she had a thick winter coat on.

“Does everyone have a glass? And champagne?” Roxy asked, holding up the half empty bottle.

“Wait, let’s switch,” Lemtov said, taking the bottle from her. He poured some champagne into the glass he was holding, then handed it to Roxy, keeping the bottle to himself.

“Thirty seconds!” Vladimir announced.

“The longest thirty seconds of my life,” Mita mumbled.

They all gathered on the balcony of Lemtov’s mansion that had a nice view of the town centre. Luckily, it wasn’t raining, and the sky was clear. At ten seconds they started counting down together. Lemtov, three of his background dancers (Ilya was in Croatia), Nikolay’s wife, Kevin Swain, Mita and Roxy, wearing their winter coats and holding their glasses to raise a toast at midnight.

“Happy New Year!” they all shouted, then clinked their glasses.

Then the fireworks started in the town centre, painting the sky with flashing colours. Roxy felt a squeeze on her shoulder and looked at the Russian smiling down on her.

“Happy New Year, Kevin,” he said.

“Happy New Year, Whitney.”


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Downton, 1920. The Crawley family's celebration in the drawing room. Mary only lets Matthew kiss her on her cheek which causes a little confusion.

_Downton, 1920 – well, 1921_

“Happy New Year!”

The glasses were raised in the drawing room, and Lady Mary Crawley watched her father kiss her mother on the cheek, when Matthew stepped to her, holding his glass.

“Happy New Year, my darling,” he said with a smile, and although she never considered herself the blushing kind, she felt her cheeks turning red.

“Happy New Year, darling,” she replied, but when he leaned forward to kiss her, she only turned her cheek to him. She wasn’t a big fan of kissing in front of her parents and grandmother, even if they were married.

He raised a brow but didn’t add any further comments. Edith, of course, chose this moment to come and wish her a happy new year, and Mary was sure she was already trying to figure out what was wrong between them.

“Happy New Year, Mary,” she said.

“A happier one,” she replied, referring to Edith being left at the altar, and of course, Sybil’s death.

They kissed each other’s cheeks, but it was rather a gesture of politeness than love.

“Mary, would you help me with the glasses?” Matthew asked some time later after they had drunk the champagne. Knowing what it was about, Mary let out a small sigh.

“Is anything wrong?” he wondered when she walked to him, holding an empty tray.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him.

“Then why didn’t you let me kiss you?”

“Help me refill the water bottle,” she said instead, handing him the bottle, then she walked out of the drawing room. This only made Matthew more confused, but she followed her anyway.

“I just don’t like kissing in front of our parents, that’s it,” she told him once they were out in the hall. “There’s nothing wrong,” she repeated, and to assure him, she stroked his face.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.”

“It does make you blush, doesn’t it?” he asked with a smile, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Blush, tremble, everything that’s not for Mama and Papa to see. Not to mention Granny.”

“And I was worried taking you to bed with your father watching,” he mumbled, with his smile growing wider.

“Happy New Year, darling,” she said then kissed him in a way he almost dropped the water bottle.


End file.
